I stepped off the bus from Reno and looked at the biggest lake I had ever seen in my life, it was an ocean. I came to live with my family and go to high school here. I was sixteen and scared. I had flown from the East Coast and into a whole other universe. We had the Poconos at home and here were the Sierras, bumps verses mountains. Lake Tahoe was old and blue and deep. It straddled California and Nevada. It was a world class ski area and boasted world-class gambling. It was world-class excitement for a girl who came from a coal town where the biggest thrill was diving off the cliffs in the creek down past Nay Aug Park. It turned out to be the most amazing star-filled year of my life. I saw stars, lordy, I saw stars. You never saw such stars as you could from Heavenly Valley and also from inside the casinos. I also grew up a little bit and added a mile to my belt.
I saw that most residents worked the casinos, second and third generations of families. Kids worked around school and on vacations. You were safe and there was no stigma attached for working in such a place. The casinos loved our youthful energy and perkiness. It was simply a matter of going down to the Sheriff’s station and getting my working papers, I was fingerprinted and put into the system. It was a heady feeling, I felt grown up. My mother, who worked at the Sahara, knew lots of people and I soon landed a job at Harrah’s.
I was hired as a busgirl. That meant I was a helper to the waitstaff, we buskids set tables, cleaned tables, made soft drinks, made desserts and in general made a waitperson’s life easier so she could do her job better. The Pit Boss ran the casino floor and the Hostess ran the restaurant floor and the two were a well oiled machine. They know who you were, what you were and where you needed to be. All people were treated equally as far as courtesy and being given a pleasant experience at Harrah’s. The Hostess/Pit Boss know who the rich, famous, divine, and the movers were and they were made to feel very pleasant. I would marvel at how the hostesses would run everything with incredible beautiful precision, smile doing it, and never break a sweat.
A good busgirl/boy learned fast and made herself indispensable to her waitress. You knew you had arrived when the hostess would pair you up with a waitress who was taking care of special people. Only the best were approved to take care of the best. Unwritten rules were that you never let down your waitperson, never asked for an autograph, you smiled a lot, and worked your butt off. I learned quickly and became a favorite of the waitstaff and the hostess.
My first star was a famous guy who played a dad on TV. I was in awe as I bussed drinks helped out. I was in the back room, the private dining area for stars who wished privacy. One of the cooks said he liked to be stroked, liked to noticed and gushed over. So, I stepped up and said how much I enjoyed his show and blabbered on like an idiot. He screamed at me then screamed for my boss, my waitress was horrified. I cried and the cooks were laughing behind us. This man who personified Daddiness on TV was a mean bully. I was fired on the spot, apologies were made to mollify Mr. Bad Daddy and I ran through the back hall to get my clothes and leave in disgrace. My boss caught up to me and said I was not fired and said to work in the employee cafeteria for the two weeks Mr. Geniality was in house. He asked me if learned a lesson about cooks, rules and told me welcome to the world of bright stars and tarnished stars. I made no tips for my two week seclusion and when I came back to the main restaurant was reinstated to my previous status of being a favored busgirl.
